Why Now?
by Narizz
Summary: Draco waltzes into Hermiones life (quite literally) and throws everything upside down.
1. One

A.N.:  This started out as a little writers block-breaker, but it just keeps going.  I wasn't going to post this until it was completely finished with it, but I'm bored and wanted to.  So there.  Tell me if you like it, please.  I'm review-deprived.  If you like it, I'll continue.  If you don't, I will anyway, but you wont know because, er, you wont read it.  Moving on.

Disclaimer: I hold no claims to any of the Harry Potter characters.  They all belong to J.K. Rowling.  Now that I'm done with the part that no one reads anyway, let's get on with it.

-----

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1            Hermione was unaware of the many benefits that the Ministry of Magic held to raise money until someone had roped her into participating in one.  She lifted a strap that had slipped from her shoulder and grumbled.  How had she been talked into this?

***********

            "C'mon, Hermione, it wont be so bad," Ron pleaded.  She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.  "Well, okay, it will be bad.  It's a Ministry event, after all.  But help me out!  How will it look?"

            "Well, it _wont _make it look like Hermione Granger is a cheap tramp."

            "But _we _know you're not a cheap tramp."

            "Give me one good reason why I should."

            "Because you love me and it means a terrible amount to my career," Ron said solemnly.  Hermione toed the ground.

            "Give me another good reason."  Ron grinned and pounced.

************

            _Oh, _she thought with a grin.  Now she remembered.  What a night that had been.  She idly fingered the small necklace around her neck.  A present from Ron for being so cooperative.  She continued to daydream about her boyfriend, not caring that she must have looked incredibly dim, tugging at her necklace with a big dopey grin.

            This was a stupid benefit anyway.  It was archaic and sexist and so very _rich.  _Really, who _did _this anymore?  Hermione was standing with a group of other girls on a small stage while a crowd of intrigued looking men stood, flashing the girls arrogant smiles.  A fast talking man stood at a podium to the side and auctioned off the girls one by one.  For a dance, mind you, but auctioning all the same.  

            How barbarically civilized.  She decided that this was an unworthy topic to be thinking about and set her thoughts on how she would have Ron make this up to her.  She heard the auctioning through a fog.  Only when it came to her and a man called out a ridiculous amount of money.

             Hermione blinked.  A bid.  A bid for her.  Oh, this wasn't going to work.  She was seriously contemplating bolting for the door until her thoughts were interrupted as a pair of strong arms tugged her to the dance floor.  She looked up and almost fell over.  The man grinned.

            "You're not breathing," he pointed out, clearly amused.  He put his hands on her hips and pulled her close.  Hermione choked.  "Were you expecting someone else?"

            "M-Malfoy?" She almost shrieked.

            "I'm paying for a dance, you know.  I think I should keep you longer if we're just going to stand here."  Hermione glared up at him, but began moving grudgingly with the music.  After a moment of tense silence she turned her head to him, looking angrier than before with confusion and uncertainty thrown in for good measure.

            "Why did you buy me?"  Draco's grin widened.  Hermione blushed and immediately hated herself for doing so.  This was Malfoy.  Malfoy was not blush-worthy.  Although, his eyes did have that incredible way of sparkling, and his hair was the most interesting color she'd even seen, and - no!  No, stop it this instant, Hermione Anne Granger!  

            Draco tilted his head down and gave her an odd look.  She, however, saw none of it, too busy screaming at herself for admitting that - for admitting nothing.  There was nothing to say about Draco Malfoy.  He was completely boring and plain, and Hermione had never spoken to someone so dull.

            Now.  If only it were true.

            "Your middle name is Anne?" Draco said, slight smirk in place.  Hermione's head shot up.

            "So what if it is?  Anne is a wonderful name.  I am very pro– how did you know my middle name is Anne?"

            "You were talking to yourself.  At first I thought you were telling me to stop.  But it seems you just have more issues than I'd originally thought.  Which wouldn't surprise me in the slightest, you know, because it's been said that mudbloods have shown a trend of insanity.  It's really quite interesting, the statistics you come across when you're growing up in a highly placed family, and I'm going to stop talking now because you're glaring at me and I fear the insanity is contagious."  Hermione restrained herself from slapping him.  She pushed his hands from her body and began to turn on her heel.  He caught her hand.

            "Let go of me," she said between grit teeth.  To tell the truth, the term had never really built up enough momentum to be thoroughly offensive.  She knew that if Ron were here, he'd curse the life out of Draco Malfoy the second the word left his mouth, and Harry as well (but simply because he knew it was an insult, and no one insulted Hermione in his presence).  Honestly, she was only looking for an excuse to flee, and she was an opportunist if there ever was one.

            "I paid for a dance," he said calmly, before yanking her arm back roughly and holding her in place.  "Dance with me."  Now Hermione was just the teensy bit intimidated.  Maybe a little more than a teensy bit.  Where the hell was Ron?  She wanted to scan the crowd, but held Draco's gaze.  If she broke the gaze, she'd lose.  She promised herself when she was eleven that she'd never lose to a Malfoy.                      

            Unfortunately, Draco was showing no signs of fighting the same inner battle that she was.  His cool grey eyes bore into her own, completely unreadable.  They were nothing like Ron's eyes.  She wondered briefly what kind of life this man had lived, but she quickly reminded herself that this was Draco Malfoy, the spoilt little rich boy who got everything - and everyone - he wanted.  This man wasn't worth her time.  _Ron, _she told herself.  _You're in love with Ron._

"I find it bothersome that you keep muttering to yourself," Draco said softly.  She woke from her revery and glared at him.

            "So leave me."  He grinned.

            "I bought you."

            The music ended and the dance floor began to empty.  Hermione let out a relieved breath and quickly dropped her arms from his shoulders.  Draco smirked as she stormed off the floor, desperately searching for her boyfriend and leaving him alone.

            _Good, _she thought.  _I hope he looks like a fool._  Ron was at her side in an instant.

            "That prat," he growled.  "Who does he think he is, anyway?  Buying my girlfriend.  That prat."  Harry appeared by his side.

            "Want us to hex him, Hermione?" he asked cheerfully, big smile in place.

            "No," she said firmly.  Harry's face fell.

            "Aww," he whined.  "But I know this really cool one.  He'd be quacking like a duck and trying to fly away all night."

            "Maybe later."  Harry grinned again.  

            Before she could blink, Hermione was on the stage again.  She cursed.

********        

            This time, it was Harry who bought her dance, mostly because she was shaking and he didn't want to subject her to the horror that was Draco Malfoy any more.  She was greatly thankful and had a wonderful time.  Until, that is, Draco popped up next to Harry.

            "Sod off, Malfoy," Harry said lightly, dancing happily with Hermione.

            "I'd like to buy this dance."

            "What are you playing at?" Hermione questioned.

            "Mental trauma, if I play my cards right."

            "I thought I told you to sod off."

            Draco offered an incredible amount of money.

            "She's all yours."  Harry skipped off the dance floor.  Hermione was appalled.  Harry had never cared about money.  He was probably just as well off as the Malfoys.  And why in the hell was he skipping?

            "Some bloody friend you are, Harry James Potter!" she yelled after him.

            "Come now.  Am I really that bad?  Most girls would be melting into puddles of nostalgic goo if they were in your place."

            "I'm not most girls," she said stubbornly.  Though, he did have that way of looking at her.  And in the rare event of a real smile, the effect was startling.  He was looking at her oddly again.

            "Every time I see you, you look like you're waging a war against yourself."

            "Oh, what would you know?"

            "Father's favorite phrase was 'know thine enemy.'"

            "Am I your enemy?"

            "You know, your eyes put all of your emotion right out there for the world to see."  The corners of his mouths showed a slight quirk.

            "And yours show nothing.  There is something to be said for showing emotion."

            "Weakness," Draco said simply.

            "Bravery," Hermione challenged.

            "Malfoy," came Ron's voice.  Hermione blinked.  Oh yeah, she was supposed to be waiting for him.  She didn't look over at him.  Neither did Draco.  They were staring at each other again.  Draco's expression was cool and indifferent.  Hermione's was full of hostile fury.

            "Weasley," Draco said in acknowledgment.

            "Get off of my girlfriend."

            "But I _bought _her," he almost whined.  Malfoys didn't whine.  Ron grabbed Hermione's hand tightly.

            "We're leaving.  Now," he growled and strode off the floor, dragging Hermione with him.  Draco watched in amusement.  He may have hated Hermione, but he knew her as well as someone could know a person.  Well.  He knew the angry side of Hermione as well as someone could know a person.  And, boy, it wasn't pretty.  He grinned, hoping against hope that Ron experienced the beating of a lifetime tonight.

*********

            Once outside the Hall doors, Hermione stopped short, yanking her hand out of Ron's grasp and fixing him with a cold glare.

            "What the hell was that?" She asked.  Ron looked confused.  He made a few broad gestures.

            "Malfoy.  He – you – dancing – thought you – didn't you..? – I didn't – Hatred!" he finished loudly.  "Hatred!"

            "Thank you, Ron, for that wonderful explanation, but I am perfectly capable of figuring out who I hate and how to deal with them.  What were you thinking, pulling that chauvinistic shit back there?  I demand an apology."  She said this in one breath.  Ron was looking at her blankly.  

            "I'm sorry."  Hermione shook her head.

            "A public apology."  The horror.                       

*********

            Draco had never had so much fun in his life.  As soon as he saw - or rather heard - the Hall doors slam open and a determined looking Hermione Granger stomp in, pulling a nearly kicking and screaming Ron Weasley, he bumped, pushed, and cursed his way to the front of the room for a good seat.  Whatever Hermione was determined to do, he didn't want to miss it.  

            Hermione literally threw her boyfriend onto the small stage and grabbed the microphone from the podium, where a small, balding man was auctioning off another batch of saps.  

            "And the lovely Andrea is up next.  How much will the gentleman pay for this di~ Young woman, that is my microphone!  I don't care if it's important, it's mine!"  Hermione leaned in real close.  The man quieted and tilted his head to hear what she would said.  Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him a mighty shove.  Fortunately, when he tripped off the stage he fell into a group young girls and no one was injured.  Unfortunately, his face landed in a rather private area, and the girls gathered into a pack and threatened to kill him.  He ran.  They ran.  It was a mess.  Hermione rolled her eyes again, crossed her arms, and glared at Ron, who was tugging at his collar nervously and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

            "Say it."  Ron looked over the crowd.

            "Hermione asked me to apologize."  He looked to Hermione, who shook her head impatiently.  "She asked me to apologize because I was a big jerk," he said hopefully.  No good.  "She asked me to apologize because I'm a man and can't do anything right."  Nope.  "She didn't ask me," he said quickly.  "She didn't say anything at all."  His voice was higher than usual.  "I'm apologizing completely of my own free will and do not fear any bodily harm."  A glare.  Ron made the most interesting sound.  "Did I say harm?"

            The small man flailed by.  

            Ron fainted.

            Draco was biting his lip so hard, it bled.

            Hermione stomped out of the hall.

            The crowd stood silently.

********

            Hermione sat at her friend's kitchen table, slowly sipping a cup of coffee.  Ginny Weasley drudged into the room wearing black drawstring pants and a tank top.  She lit a cigarette and collapsed into a chair.

            "Gin, it's two in the afternoon," Hermione said gently.  Ginny looked up, eyebrows raised in silent question.  "And you just woke up fifteen minutes ago.  And you're smoking again.  I thought you'd quit."  Ginny shook her head.  

            "So I hear a man was mauled at the benefit last night.  I hear he'll be coming out of that coma any day now.  I hear it was your fault."  Hermione looked offended.

            "That is a vicious lie.  It was not my fault at all.  Those girls were itching for a fight."

            "It was a charity event.  They were training to be nuns, Sweetie," Ginny said gently.

            "It was built up resentment, that's what it was."  She stared blankly at her friend.

            "I've never known anyone to accuse a bunch of nuns of a savage beating."  Ginny had heard the whole story, of course, from various reliable sources.  Ginny Weasley was the gossip center of England.  As Hermione opened her mouth to say something, Harry sauntered into the kitchen, dropping a kiss on Ginny's forehead and grabbing a beer from the fridge.

            "Hiya, Hermione," he said happily.  "Mr. Jonavahn should be out of intensive care soon."  Hermione scowled.

            "How can you be happy all of the time?" she asked moodily, immensely annoyed that the poor man continuously came up in her conversations.  Harry sent her a sunny grin and took a swig from his beer.  "Oh.  You know, there are meetings for that sort of happiness."  Harry gave her a look.  "We support your decisions, Harry.  We're here to help you."

            "You know, just because you're mentally disturbed, it doesn't mean the rest of us have to be as cynical.  I happen to be naturally optimistic."

            "No one is naturally optimistic," Ginny said.  "No one actually wants to positive." Harry flicked her in the forehead.  She looked up, smiled sweetly, and blew a lung-full of smoke in his face.  He frowned.

            "You two are disgusting," Hermione spat. "I have to be somewhere." She was already putting her coat on.

            "Where?" Harry said, looking up at her curiously.

            "Somewhere.  Preferably not here."      

            "We're not that bad.  You and Ron are far worse."  Hermione looked injured.

            "We were drunk, okay?" She said defensively.

*********

            It was her favorite place to come to work.  It was quiet, it was homey, and it served up her daily dose of caffeine.  She had all of her books piled by her feet and multiple notebooks spread across the table.  She was writing frantically with her right hand and sipping her third Carmel Machiatto with her left.  She was caught a bit off guard when the other chair to her table was flung out and a figure dropped down into it.  She didn't look up.

            "Look, I'm really busy," she said calmly.  "Let's make this short.  I'm taken."

            "Did it hurt?" The man asked.  Hermione thought the voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she rolled her eyes.

            "When I fell from heaven?  No.  Us angels come fully equipped with wings."

            "Nice to know.  But I was going to say when you fell for me." Hermione choked on her coffee.  The man grinned.  "That stuff'll kill you."

            "_Malfoy?_" 

            "Glad to see you haven't forgotten me."

            "What the hell are you doing here?"

            "My old nanny owns this place.  Best blueberry muffins in London.  The question is, why am I sitting at your table?"

            "Do tell," she said with a strangled voice.

            "You want me."

            "Excuse me?" She scoffed.  Inside, she was burning, her heart was hammering, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why.  This was Malfoy, the slimy little pug-faced git who made her school days a nightmare.  Well.  Technically, it was Voldemort who had made her school days a nightmare, but an added dish of Draco served cold was just too much to bear.

            "You want me to be here, so I am.  I aim to please."

            "I want you to get up and walk out that door.  This meeting never happened."

            "You think I'm gorgeous."

            "I think you're detestable."

            "You want me bad."

            And, oh, how she did..

            What?  No.  No, she definitely did not want this callous, arrogant, unbelievably attractive waste of air anywhere near her.  What?  No.  Attractive? Well..

            "I guess I could get used to the mumbling," Draco said quietly.  "Am I interrupting something?"

            There.

            Silence.

            _Say something, you daft git, _Hermione yelled inside her head.  _Now.  Tell him to piss off.  Go.  Now.  You bitch!_

            "Mental debates now?  You're an odd witch, 'Mione."  

            There her voice was.  "Never," she said quietly.  "_Never _call me that."

            "You like 'Herm' better?  Yeah, I like that one too."

            "I am and forever will be 'Granger' to you, Malfoy."

            "But that's so impersonal," he almost whined.  "I mean, we can hardly call each other by our last names when there's little Malfoys running around.  It'll confuse them."  She was speechless.

            "L-Little Malfoys?" He grinned.

            "When I said that you wanted me, I~"

            "Everything alright, Drakey?" A kind looking old woman in a white apron had approached their table.  She smiled warmly at them.  He smiled sunnily up at her.

            "Perfect, Nan."  She frowned.

            "Where's your muffin, Muffin?"

            "Ate before I came, sadly.  Maybe next time."

            "Oh, no!  Not my Drakey.  No, you'll have one of Nanny Marie's muffins.  You're too thin anyway!"  She bustled into the back, no doubt to make a fresh batch for her, ahem, Drakey-Muffin.

            Hermione was biting her lip.

            "That was cute."

            "She practically raised me."

            "So polite, Drakey."

            "Bite your tongue," he darkened.  "Never call me that."  Hermione shrugged.

            "We can hardly call each other by our last names." She was grinning.  "Think of the children, Muffin."  He glared the worst glare he could muster.


	2. Two

Disclaimer: We've been through this.  I own nothing.

----

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1"Have you noticed that Hermione's acting a bit.. Off, lately?" Ginny asked her boyfriend casually as she nursed a bottle of stout. 

            "More so than usual?  I dunno," he said conversationally.  "She's always been a bit off."

            "Harry, I'm being serious."  He looked faintly surprised.

            "So am I."

            "It's just that she's been touchy every since that Ministry benefit ball thing."

            "And God forbid you mention Draco Malfoy in her presence, less you want something valuable thrown at~"

            "Harry, that's it!" Ginny looked like she'd just solved the Scooby-Doo mystery and couldn't wait to pull off the offender's mask.  "Malfoy!  That's what her problem is!"  Harry just gave her a blank look.

            "Malfoy is everyone's problem.  What a git."

            "Oh, sometimes I don't know why I bother with you, Potter.  You're so thick!" With that, she bolted from the room.

            "I don't understand," he said to himself as he heard the front door slam shut.  

*****

            Marie bustled back to their table with an enormous blueberry muffin and a tall glass of milk.  She smiled warmly as she placed them in front of Draco and pat him lightly on the head.  He looked a bit put off by the fact that his hair was being touched, but he obediently took a bite of the muffin under his Nanny's watchful gaze.  She smiled more broadly.

            "Good, good!" she glanced over and saw Hermione, probably, for the first time.  "Who's this, then?"

            "Oh, sorry, Nan," Draco said.  "This is Hermione Granger.  We're engaged."

            Hermione stopped breathing.

            "Oh?" Marie almost growled.  Hermione carefully met her gaze.

            "We're very happy together," Draco said cheerfully.  "Been together since our Hogwarts days.  We've always had so much _chemistry _between us," he sent a private grin to Hermione.  Marie was looking very flustered by this time.  A girl did not date Draco until they passed through her.  What was this little hussy thinking, stealing her baby away without the proper consent?  Her look was one of concentrated evil when she spoke again.

            "Draco is very fickle about his women, you know," she said confidentially.  There was one a while ago - oh, who was it, Drakes?  Veronica? And just last week he had Pretty Susanne on his arm.  Didn't you have a dinner engagement with that, oh, what was her name?"  She snapped her fingers a few times.  "Oh well, it really isn't of any importance. There's no use in learning the names of all his flings.  Really, Darling, are you sure about this man?  He'll break your heart."

            Hermione was staring openly at the woman, right eyebrow arched.

            "Honestly, Nan, Herm wont fall for the old horror stories."  Hermione's head snapped back to glare at him.  He grinned at her and reached across the table to hold her hand.  "We're in love," he announced gaily.

            "You have milk, Love, just there," she pointed to her upper lip.  Draco, ever conscious about his image practically squeaked and rushed to wipe it away.  Hermione took her chance and strode from the café.

            She realized that she left all of her books when she was halfway into storming dramatically down the street.  She could hardly just turn around and give a repeat performance.

            _Shit._

********

            Ginny knew exactly where her friend would go.  There was only one place that the girl would flee to, and she intended to find her and ruin the hiding experience.  She threw open the doors of the small café and made an entrance that reminded patrons of a bad episode of Charlie's Angels.  Ginny glanced around with a determined look about her for a little longer.

            "Just missed her, Little Weasley," came an annoying drawl that made her want to run headlong into a wall.  And where there's suicidal tendencies, there's Draco Malfoy.

            "Damn," she swore, not really sure if she was swearing because she was too late, or that she'd just run into a Malfoy.  Insert look of pure distaste.  "Well, you're really the problem anyway, Malfoy, so I'll talk to you instead."  He looked faintly alarmed at this.

            "I don't associate with penniless, money grubbing twerps," he said a little too loudly.  Ginny sat down across from him.

            "And I usually don't associate with arrogant hate-mongers.  And it's all very sad, but we're gonna have to deal, because I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what you did to make Hermione so.. Weird."

            "She's always been weird."

            "I'm serious."

            "So am I."

            .. Honestly, the similarities between The Boy Who Lived and The Boy Who Smirked were frightening sometimes.  Ginny shook her head to clear the cobwebs.

            "Why are you bothering her?"

            "I'm not."

            "You're here!"

            "I have a perfectly legitimate reason for being here, thank you very much.  I don't understand why being here is a big deal in the first place."

            "This is Hermione's favorite place.  She's always here."

            "That's ridiculous.  Nan would have known her."  Ginny almost smiled.

            "'Nan'?" she asked.

            As if on cue, Marie made her way back to the table, looking disapproving.

            "Now, Drakes," she very nearly scolded, "I was just making it all up with that Harmony girl, but now that I see you 10 minutes later, you've got another bird on your arm!" She turned on Ginny now.  "You should be ashamed of yourself, you little hussy.  This man is to be married."

            For once in his life, Draco Malfoy was speechless.

*********

            Harry was sitting in an arm chair when Hermione decided to storm into her apartment, hoping to find Ron and chase the image of Draco Malfoy sitting across from her with an arrogant smirk and milk on his upper lip. 

            "Have fun, sweetums?" Harry said in a motherly tone.  "Having a grand time running from your life, are you?"

            "Piss off, Harry," she snarled, brushing past his chair in a mad rush to the fridge for a much-needed beer.  His hand shot out and gripped her elbow, holding her roughly in place.  She growled, and Harry seriously considered seeking mental help on her behalf.  

            "You're being flighty.  And more impatient than you usually are - and for God's sake, Herm, stop glaring at me like that.  I'm telling you as your best friend, not your mother.  Would you stop fidgeting?  Sit down, dammit."  She sat on the floor next to his chair, folded her arms, and stared up at him blankly.  "There," he said calmly, "was that so incredibly painful?"

            "You are no longer my best friend.  Just thought you should know."

            "That's nice, dear.  Now tell Mummy what's got your panties in a bunch."

            "Does being condescending come naturally to you, or do you have to really try?"

            "Oh, it's natural, but stop changing the subject."

            "Where's Ron?" Hermione was ignoring him completely.

            "Where's Malfoy?" Harry asked casually.  Her head snapped up and she glared.

            "How would I know?  God, I dance with him twice and suddenly I'm his keeper.  I don't know anything about the man.  Why would you ask me a question like that?"  

            Harry's eyes were wide and signs of a grin were creeping to his lips.  Hermione took a deep breath.

            "I mean, how should I know where that git is?"

            Harry's grin widened.

A.N: 

      So this chapter was about half the size of the first.  I really didn't want to post this, because I loathe short chapters, but I haven't been writing much of anything.  And I wanted to let ffn know that I am indeed alive.  None of you care, though, so I don't know why I'm bothering.  

     Oh, and please don't rate the fic on the incredibly stupid plot.  Rather, the wit, charm, and the author's ability to spell?  Or maybe just on the author's modesty.  ^^'.


End file.
